


Weather Report

by Scion13



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Crutchie gets a job, Fluff, Fluffy, No Slash, One Shot, apology for my last fic, frustrated politzer, jack knows the weather, jack works for politzer, maybe if you squint, no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 17:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18298511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scion13/pseuds/Scion13
Summary: Politzer can put up with a lot in his life. Losing the strike, fine. Hiring the obnoxiously haughty Jack Kelly as a cartoon artist, great. But when Jack starts to gain a reputation for his uncanny ability to predict the weather, well Politzer has questions and they lead to one surprising answer: Crutchie.Also known as a super happy fluffy fic where Crutchie gets the recognition he deserves as a way to apologize for my last fic.





	Weather Report

It started the second week of Jack Kelly working for The World. Joseph Politzer tolerated Jack’s presence, he was a half decent worker and if it meant his daughter came by for lunch every day, all the better. But then about half-way through the second week, Politzer first noticed it, it had been a cloudy morning yet Jack had no coat to speak of. By afternoon the weather was balmy, but Jo assumed the boy just lacked a coat at all. 

There were several more incidents if they could be called that. Jack saying he wouldn’t be into work tomorrow right before a freak blizzard. Saying he was going swimming after work despite it being cold, yet the day heating up to unbearable by the end of it. Without fail he always managed to bring a coat on days when it rained and was always the first to bring in snow gear before it had even started dusting the streets. 

The whole phenomenon was so uncanny that even Politzer couldn’t ignore it when half of his staff used their morning coffee break to ask Jack the weather for the day. The crowd around Kelly’s desk had gotten so bad, Jo had started scheduling the Delancey brothers to go break it up. 

Almost a year into Jack’s employment as a political cartoon artist, Politzer found himself halfway to work when biting cold rain started falling by the bucket full, soaking through his suit. Yet as he sloshed through the office he heard unmistakable whistling coming from behind him. Turning he glared at an uncannily cheerful newsboy, dressed head to toe in heavy rain gear. 

“Boss,” Kelly drawled as he waltzed past, using a tone that made Politzer’s lip curl. 

“Mr. Kelly,” it was close to a growl as he followed the young man upstairs.

Jack whistled, “looks like that them storm gots you pretty good.”

“The storm,” Politzer muttered under his breathe with a look up to the heavens.

“What’s that?” Jack smiled a cheeky grin and Politzer glared back. 

“I said, curious how it didn’t do a number on you.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, “Well, I don’t dress up in this gear for sport.”

The sigh that Politzer gave was one of existential crisis, but Jack either didn’t notice or didn’t care-- more likely he was enjoying himself.

“The storm wasn’t in any of the reports. I don’t see how--” Politzer stopped abruptly to the sound of his cartoonist laughing, “What is so funny?” 

“Those reports are garbage,” Kelly waved a hand for emphasis, “Might as well go read your palm, or use one of them dividing sticks.”

“A divining rod?” Politzer guessed but Jack just shrugged. This boy would be the death of Joe. He gave another sigh, “Well maybe I should move you to weather reports instead of wasting your psychic power on frivolous cartoons.”

Jack gave a snort as they entered the offices, “I’ll stick to sketchin’ if it’s fine with you. I couldn’t tell you what the weather was if a hurricane was on top of us.”

Politzer stopped Jack before he waltzed into the horde of equally soaked colleges all wanting an explanation. 

“Then how did you know about the storm?” It was an earnest question, which caught Jack by surprise. It lacked the usual contempt and superiority the owner of the world usually threw at him. As Jack looked Politzer in the eye there was real confusion, even a curiosity, in his expression. Which is about the only reason Jack told his crook of a boss the truth. 

“Crutchie told me.”

“Crutchie?” Politzer asked, looking utterly skeptical. 

“Ya, remember that kid with a bum leg you had thrown into the refuge?”

Kelly’s expression had turned dark, darker than Joseph had ever seen. The glint in his eye hinted at something that went beyond anger, and it was enough to make Politzer take a step back with a small cough. 

“I never made the acquaintance. And is beside the point, what on earth does he have to do with your weather information?”

Jack’s expression softened just a degree, though the fury was still there, “He’s the one who tells me ‘bout what the weather’s gonna be.”

Politzer balked for a full minute, sure this was some rude joke before realizing the youth was deathly serious, “But. . . How?!”

At this Jack kind of looked at his feet in thought, absently rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really sure, ter be honest. Something ‘bout his leg is, uh, what's you call sensitive to weather change.”

“You are telling me. . . that you get your weather. . . from a crippled leg?”

Jack’s eyes went back to that dangerous place, “The leg never lies.”

After a moment of silence, Jack sauntered away towards the masses convening around his desk for the weather. Jo stood there in utter disbelief. It had to be a trick. Some kind of sick joke, or payback. 

 

 

It took another six months of Jack Kelly’s perfect weather prediction for Jo to finally ask to meet this Crutchie. At first, Kelly was adamantly against it. Violently so. Afterall, he might not sell newspapers anymore but the boarding house was still his home, those boys were still his family. He wasn’t about to sell out Crutchie to anyone, least of all Politzer. 

Yet as the owner of the World kept asking, assuring Jack that he wanted to offer the younger boy a job as a possible weather reporter, the newsboy leader softened, saying he would ask Crutchie and let him decide.

What Jo never knew was that Crutchie didn’t believe Jack at first, but quickly became enthralled with the idea. He couldn’t believe that Politzer, THE Politzer, wanted him as a real live reporter. Jack still tried to persuade him otherwise, but the small boy was too excited. 

On the first day he showed up with Jack, Crutchie was beyond nervous. He still didn’t believe it was real. Politzer knew who the boy was the moment he walked in, if his crutch wasn’t a dead giveaway, Jack’s protective near hostile stance next to him did it. For his part Politzer was at least civil with the boy, introducing himself before asking for Crutchie’s real name. There was some tension after he insisted that it was just Crutchie. Jo found this inappropriate but the looks he got from Kelly indicated there was no room to argue. 

After some negotiation, they came to the decision that Crutchie would come in when he could-- preferably once a week, but most days Jack would be sure to bring in the report instead. Of course, Crutchie would be paid every day, whether he was in attendance or not. This seemed acceptable and all parties shook hands-- sans the spitting much to Pulitzer's relief. 

Eventually, Crutchie would become as much an integral part of the team as Jack. Not only did their weather section gain a reputation for most reliable in the city, but Joseph also found everyone still gathered at Jack’s desk in the morning for the news. The difference was that now everyone was asking about the small boy with the crutch. His health, his interests, his day. Then there were the days when Crutchie himself came in to help make the week’s report. Everyone flocked around him, drawn in by his smile, his wit, but most of all the warmth that seemed to radiate off him in waves. 

It would strike Jo much later that this boy could have died for Politzer’s petty feud over a few cents. It was nearly sickening now. It would take time for him to rightfully apologize, with several generous gifts to back it up. For now, though, it was enough to have him there. A part of the team. Important, needed, skilled, but most of all alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Another fic, but this time it isn't super depressing! I have to admit, it's definitely not my finest work but hey, we could all use a little crappy fluff in our lives right about now. Why am I posting another Newsies fic when I have a million and a half Merlin fics I should probably post? Who knows! I'm insane! No one can stop me! But seriously, I hope you enjoy it and just like before if you find any grammatical errors or just have a suggestion or idea to make it better LET ME KNOW! Seriously, I don't want to reread this only to realize in horror that I mixed up their and they're or something. Also just comment in general, I love to hear from you all. Hope you enjoy and, as always, thanks for reading!


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